


The Way it's Done

by 3Keys21Mind



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Candy, Flashback, Gen, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-War, good feels, mentions of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, post- CA:TWS, smarties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 11:08:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5926201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3Keys21Mind/pseuds/3Keys21Mind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Blue, green, yellow, brown, orange, pink, red... It's the way it's done."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Way it's Done

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooooooooooooooooo
> 
> This was prompted on Tumblr (kinda).
> 
> ladyaudreyrussia said: "Which one sorts candy by color and which one thinks it's weird?"
> 
> And then this happened.

The only thing keeping Steve from dropping his coffee cup is knowing that the noise would shatter the scene playing out in his living room. 

Knowing he had a sweet tooth, Natasha had brought Bucky a couple boxes of candy from a mission in Canada-- Smarties. He had tried to look nonchalant about the gift when he received them because Tony always commented on the idiosyncrasies of his teammates, but Steve and Natasha could tell how excited he was about the small blue boxes of candy.  
Now, Natasha was settled on the plush couch in Steve's living room, eyes on the TV but clearly watching the other ex-assassin. For his part, Bucky was curled into a massive sweater that was pulled over his knees, on the floor in front of the couch. Steve and Sam were just entering the room when Bucky had carefully popped a box open and gently spilled the contents onto the glass top of the table in front of him. 

Seemingly without a prompt, Steve's eyes watered and his breath caught painfully in his chest. Worriedly, Sam passed Natasha her coffee and stood back beside the Super-soldier. 

"Ok, Man?" 

_"Look what I got, Stevie!" Steve turned around in his seat, his thin shoulders barely showing over their thread-bare couch back._

_Bucky was late getting home tonight and dirty from working all day, but he didn't look tired-- actually, he looked more awake than he usually did at this hour after a back-breaking day at work. He was holding his hands up, showing two little paper bags._

_"I stopped by Mrs. O'Malleys on the way home today and helped fix the store door. She let me take a bit of candy for the help!" Steve couldn't help but smile at him. Very little lit Bucky's face up the way sweets did._

_"Oh yeah?" Steve could feel himself grin, despite the headache begging him to stop._

_"Yeah! I got a coupla colored gummies and these!" He leapt over the couch, shaking Steve's tiny body a bit in his excitement before handing the bag in his right hand to his best guy._

_"What are these?"_

_"Liquorice! They're kinda sweet and Ms. O'Malley says they'd be good for your cold," Steve rolled his eyes and almost called Bucky out for wasting his hard earned treat on the sickly blonde, but the pure delight on Bucky's face was hard to be upset at; especially when he was shaking his candies out onto the coffee table and putting each color in it's own pile._

_"Why d'ya do that?" Steve chuckled, sliding onto floor beside his friend._

_"How else would ya do it?" Bucky almost looked actually offended._

_"Ya pick one up and shove it in your big trap!" Bucky 'tsk'ed loudly._

_"Only animals eat candy like that!"_

_"Oh yeah? How do you eat 'em?"_

_"Ya gotta separate them! Eat the blue, then green, yellow and the red ones last!"_

_"That's ridiculous!" Steve was laughing so hard he was sure he was gonna cough his lungs out of his chest._

_"It's the way it's done. Now quit blabbin' and eat your candy, Punk."_

_"Jerk," he tilted to the side to shrug against his roommate._

"Steve!" It isn't the harsh whisper in his ear that breaks him out of his daydream, but the solid squeeze on his shoulder. Steve glances at Sam before turning away, trying to hide his watering eyes. "You ok?" 

"Fine, it's just..." he gestured helplessly at his best friend, still obliviously sorting his candy into little piles of each color. 

Sam mistook his tears for sadness, apparently, because the next thing Steve knew, Sam was whispering that obsessive behavior was normal for those with PTSD-- it was an attempt to physically organize their thoughts and feelings or have a little control over their surroundings-- it was progress! 

Steve shook his head and moved away from him, sitting carefully across from Bucky and Natasha, cradling his coffee against his chest. 

"Mind if I watch ya sort 'em, Buck?" He blinked at him for a moment before shrugging and unfolding himself from his sweater, picking up the blue ones and popping one into his mouth. 

"Blue, green, yellow, brown, orange, pink, red," he recited with a face far too serious to be talking about tiny candies. He moved each of the piles into that order before glancing up through his fringe at Steve as if for approval. 

"That's the way it's done, Buck." Steve prayed quietly that Bucky couldn't hear the quiver in his voice. He didn't hide his smile when Buckys' own small, rare one spread across his lips.


End file.
